Tuesday, June 30, 2009

This spring and summer, the girls in our small group are working through Beth Moore's study on Esther. It is awesome. I am learning a ton and being extremely challenged.

Last week's lesson was no exception. It was really challenging. You know... that uncomfortable "I know she's right but wish she wasn't" challenging? Yeah... that kind.

Before this study, I wasn't too familiar with the book of Esther. But I love it. It's like watching a movie unfold on the big screen... there's passion, there's rage, and there's divine intervention. It is actually difficult for me to not read ahead! I want to!

We're at the part in Esther after King Xerxes gave Haman his signet ring, and in turn, Haman issued a decree to kill all the Jews in Susa about 11 months later. Unbeknownst to the King, Esther is Jewish. So, Mordecai, Esther's cousin who raised her after she became an orphan, is one of the King's guards and catches wind of this decree. He sends one of the eunuchs to Esther to tell her this news, asking her to approach King Xerxes' and ask for mercy on the Jews' behalf. Esther retorts that she can't approach the throne unless he calls for her... otherwise he could sentence her to death. Mordecai retorts back that basically she needs to, to not think for a second that because she's the queen that she would escape death... that perhaps she is in a position of power for "such a time as this." So, Esther tells Mordecai and the Jews to fast for three days, and that she will too. She then says that she will then go to the King and, "If I die, I die." (Paraphrase of part of Esther 3 and Esther 4.)

The "If I die, I die" statement is what Beth Moore stopped and really settled on. She started talking about Esther's fear, and the fears we have in our own lives. In the study, she had us complete "if, then" statements regarding our fears. For example, one of mine was:

"If I get pregnant again and we lose another child, then I don't know how I could go through this again."

She then said that statement in her video that gripped me. I knew she was right, but given the circumstances that have unfolded in my life over the past two years, it was really hard to hear:

"God doesn't want us to trust Him that He won't let it [the thing in your if, then statement] happen; He wants us to trust HIM."

Boy did that put some things in perspective... uncomfortably, but it did. It solidified for me the fact that God could let it happen again, just like He could not let it happen again... but at the end of the day, He is still God, He is still sovereign, and He is still good... regardless of how I feel and regardless of my circumstances. It made me realize that I need to have a mind and heart shift in what my hope rests in... that it needs to be in God alone. Sure, I can hope to bring home a healthy baby... but those other hopes need to be in their proper place... secondary... in light of my hope in God.

So, Beth Moore had us rethink our "if, then" statements to be "If _____, then GOD" and to really explore what it means for God to be God if any of those "ifs" were to come true. I know that God would carry us through it again, and I know He would use it for His glory and a greater good than I might be able to see or comprehend.

But I still have much more thinking to do on all of that.

I think it's no coincidence that the cornerstone verse that Spencer and I chose for Isaac's Golf Tournament is this:

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, that you may overflow with hope by the power of the holy spirit." ~ Romans 15:13

It's not "as you trust that He will not let the 'unthinkable' happen" or "as you trust that He will allow your life to be comfortable and free from pain..." It's "as you trust in Him." Why? So that you may overflow with hope. Hope is found in trusting in God alone... not trusting in what He will act in the way that WE desire.

I am so thankful for the truth of God's word... for the things that are sure, solid, and true. So I would just encourage you... place your trust in the One is unchanging, the One who is true. He is where true hope is found.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Putting my most recent post in hiatus until tomorrow to post this instead.

My friend Amber, who I have had the privilege of communicating with via phone and e-mail for the past 4 months or so, and who I have mentioned on here and have asked you all to pray for before, delivered her daughter, Megan Grace, this morning at 4:34 am. Megan Grace weighed in right at 5 pounds. She had her dad's hair and her mommy's feet. Megan Grace passed away 10 minutes after delivery via c-section.

Megan Grace was diagnosed with osteogenesis imperfecta, type II at about 20 weeks gestation. There are various types of osteogenesis imperfects ranging from mild to severe; type II is considered fatal.

Amber was due until August 2, but because of Megan Grace's condition, developed a few complications with her pregnancy that caused her to come sooner. Though today's delivery wasn't completely unexpected, it was much sooner than Amber and her husband Steve would have hoped.

Please keep Amber and Steve, as well as the rest of their family in your prayers. Amber hasn't posted an update on her blog yet, but you're welcome to still leave a comment there on her most recent post, or here in the comments section. Any comments left here I will forward to her via e-mail.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Walking With You was created by Kelly of Sufficient Grace Ministries to help support those who have lost a child. Together we share our stories, helpful information, scriptures, encouraging words, prayer requests, and more. To join in on Walking With You please visit Kelly's blog. This 2nd week we are to share our experience after we heard the news that changed our lives.

This process was, in some ways, two-fold for us. I remember going in for a heartbeat check on Monday, April 21, 2008. I had been concerned about a sudden drop in my pregnancy symptoms, and with having had a missed miscarriage at 13 weeks just a few months prior, I wanted to make sure everything was okay.

When the nurse couldn't find Isaac's heartbeat on the doppler, they immediately sent me for an ultrasound, which is when Isaac's cystic hygroma and omphalocele were discovered. When the ultrasound tech and my OB were explaining what these were, I just felt so angry. I was already so hurt because of my miscarriage (which was a random chromosomal issue), and I just couldn't believe that there could be something wrong with this baby, too. We quickly headed over to a meternal-fetal medicine group to meet with a genetic counselor and to have a CVS performed. At that point, we were being told things like, "a 10% chance of survival" and "even then, we don't know what the baby;s quality of life would be." We waited a few days for the CVS results, and learned that Isaac's chromosomes were completely normal. We also learned that Isaac was a boy.

At this point, I really thought God was going to perform that miracle we had already started praying for... that it would be a long road of surgeries and medical intervention for Isaac, but that he would ultimately be okay.

A span of about 8 weeks passed, this time in sort of "limbo" where the severity of the cystic hygroma and omphalocele, among other things, had yet to be determined.

It was our June 17, 2008 visit to Children's National Medical Center that included several prenatal evaluations and consultations with carious specialists where we were told, "I am sorry... but your son's condition is fatal."

I really don't remember much about that day past hearing those words. I know we consulted with a genetic counselor, and I know I held back the tears long enough to make it to the car. Truthfully, I think it was shock more than anything else. My head was pounding, and my world felt like it had just unraveled. Several family members had asked me to call them after the appointments, and I am sure that what they heard when I called was more like a series of groans and sobs rather than an informative, coherent explanation.

By now, three different doctors had suggested terminating my pregnancy; that really wasn't an option for us. We know that the Lord created Isaac just as he was. We know that the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. We know that the Lord is the giver of life, and that it's not our place to determine when Isaac's life would end.

And so the waiting began... and we didn't know how long we'd be waiting. We were told that Isaac could pass away any time in utero, that he could pass away at birth, or that he could be born and live a little while. Deep down we knew that God was capable of a fourth option: that Isaac could live. I think the uncertainty of it all was difficult... being excited for each ultrasound (and I had many!) and getting to see our little guy, but not knowing if his heart would still even be beating.

It was difficult to walk this road of maintaining a balance of an acknowledgement of Isaac's fatal diagnosis, but still having hope in what God could do. So, we decided to not set up a nursery or any of those things; we knew that if God did grant us that miracle we, and so many of you, had been praying for, then we'd be able to get a car seat, a bassinet, and a few things we needed in time. Instead, we wanted to focus our time on making memories while Isaac was still with us in the womb, and making the most of the time we did have.

So we took Isaac on hikes, to the pool, and to the ocean where I would jump waves with him and sit and watch the sun rise in the morning... telling him all about the colors and the clouds in the sky, the seagulls, and the crashing waves. We took him to a football game, and he seemed to get really excited when the drum line would play! As I wrote my daily letter to Isaac, I played music to him each morning, learning that he seemed to like songs with just a few instruments rather than many; and I drank lots of seltzer water, because not only did I like it, but it made Isaac kick and wiggle a lot... and I just loved knowing that he was so alive.

I wanted to walk this journey as a mom who was (and still is) proud of her son. While I wanted people to understand, I didn't want their pity. And most of all, I wanted to walk in a way that brought glory and honor to our Father in heaven.

As Isaac's birthday drew near, we spent a lot of time looking for the perfect blanket, the perfect outfit, and gathering all kinds of things to make memories with him that day. We knew that, barring a miracle, we only had one chance with it all... and we wanted it to be just right for him. It turned looking for "baby stuff" into something extraordinary for us.

We were, and continue to be, blessed by an absolutely incredible support system of people who have been the hands and feet of Jesus to us... both family and friends in real life, and other women who have courageously shared their stories so that those following a similar path might not feel so alone. I took comfort in connecting with women like that, in the support of our family and friends, and in God's word. I spent a lot of time reading through Job and numerous psalms... somehow feeling encouraged by the fact that it is okay to lay your anguish before God. Never before had I been in a circumstance where the very core of who I was had been shaken, and never before had I been so desperate. And God met me in every square inch of it.

The waiting is hard... especially when you don't really know what you're waiting for. We were told one thing by the doctors; yet we know we serve a God who is bigger than any diagnosis. Walking in that tension was a difficult thing, but how could I not pray on Isaac's behalf? How could I not hope for the miracle that God is capable of?

I know some of you right now may be in that "waiting" place... some have even e-mailed me and asked for my advice on that. The only thing I know to tell you is this: Do whatever you can to enjoy your pregnancy and the time you have with your child right now, and pray that God would give you the courage and strength to do it. He will.... because His grace is sufficient, and His power is made perfect in weakness.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Like Mother's Day, Father's Day is a really bittersweet time in our house. I think many of the emotions and much of sentiment is the same as my Mother's Day post entitled Honor. So in an effort to not repeat myself, today I simply want to leave you with a few thoughts, a few pictures, and a small request.

This first thing I want to share is how fortunate I am to have a wonderful dad (and stepdad, father-in-law, and stepfather-in-law). My dad has always encouraged my sister and I in our pursuits... even standing out in the rain during our soccer, field hockey, and lacrosse games. When I was little, he'd take me to the local five and dime with all my pennies that I had earned folding laundry so that I could by plastic charms to go on my plastic charm necklace. He values time with family, and even still this summer, rents a house for a week so that we can all be together. My dad was there to welcome his first grandson, our sweet little Isaac, into the world, and later looked for the fullest and most beautiful mums to line the altar at Isaac's memorial service. I have a great dad.

The second thing I want to share is that I know that not everyone does... have an involved, caring father, I mean. I know that some people reading this may have lost their dad, may have never known their dad, whose dads may be absent, or whose dads may be involved in addictive or abusive patterns of behavior. What I want you to know is that you have a Father in heaven who loves you and adores you.

Lastly, I just wanted to share publicly how proud I am of Spencer as Isaac's dad. When I was pregnant with Isaac, Spence would love to just casually put his hand over my stomach while we were sitting watching tv or talking so that he could feel Isaac move. He would talk to him and say goodnight to him every night before bed. He came to every one of our countless (believe me... they were countless!) doctor's appointments, and willingly came joined in the search to find Isaac the perfect blanket and outfit.

On the day Isaac was born, watching Spencer hold him and love him was amazing. There was something both so strong and so tender in the way Spencer held Isaac. When our friends and family came in to meet Isaac and hold him, Spencer would be right there, making sure each person was gentle with him... he is such a protector. Spencer lead us in praying together with Isaac, and watching a man love his son is one of the most beautiful things.

So as I leave you with a few pictures of our sweet son with his daddy, I'd like to make this request: if you have a word of encouragement or an affirmation as a dad for Spencer today, would you leave a comment? I know your words will touch his heart.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

No one likes to be told "no." Whether it's for a fleeting pleasure or a holy desire, "no" isn't typically the answer we like to hear. At least I don't... and I hope I'm not alone here :)

I think one of the things that has been difficult to process is the fact that while God said "yes" to many of our prayers concerning Isaac, he said "no" to one of the biggest ones of all.

You see, we prayed for Isaac's cystic hygroma to shrink... and it did. We prayed that we would be able to hold him while he was still alive... and we were. We prayed that he wouldn't be in pain... and he never appeared to be. I even prayed that he would be born with hair so that I could have a lock (or several) of it... and he was.

But our biggest prayer of all... that Isaac would be healed on this side of heaven... well, God said no. Ultimately, I know that Isaac is healed, that he has been saved, and that he is perfect, full, and whole in the presence of our Father. But he didn't get to be here with us for a while first... and that was the deepest cry of our hearts.

Spencer and I have talked a lot about how all over scripture there are examples where people are asking to be healed, and the answer was "yes." The blind man who could see; the leper; the hemorrhaging woman... the list goes on. And so there has felt like there's been this disconnect, and it all has felt sort of arbitrary... who is told "yes" and who is told "no." Truthfully, it all feels a little unfair.

This past Sunday we were sitting in church and our pastor was preaching the second sermon in a series entitled "God Rules." He has been talking about the sovereignty of God, and at this one point in the sermon very passionately proclaimed, "God has never dealt with you unjustly." At first, everything in me wanted to jump up and say, "Oh yeah?!?!" But I obviously didn't and I was intrigued. As I continued to listen, what came to mind was a conversation we had with some good friends that previous Friday night.

We were talking with them about how it is hard to find an example in scripture where God said "no." There just don't seem to be that many. And through this conversation two examples came to mind.

The first was Paul... being tormented by a thorn in the flesh. 2 Corinthians 12:8 says that Paul asked three times for it to be taken away. And God said no. Here's what the Lord said to him instead in verse 9... "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Even more profoundly than Paul is Jesus. In the garden of Gethsemane, he asked the Father... "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." (Matthew 26:39) We learn later in the rest of Matthew 26 and 27 that God's answer was no. Because Jesus did go to the cross.

He went to the cross for you... for me... for Isaac... for Duncan, Will, Blake, Ethan, Vivian, Anne Marie, Brooks, Maxson, Nathan, Lucas, Matthew,Faith, Grace, Thomas, Pearl, Christian, Dylan, Katherine, Audrey, Luke, Carleigh, Felicity, and so many other precious little ones who left their moms' and dads' arms much sooner than any of us would have liked.

As I walked out of church, I thought... What if God hadn't said "no" when Jesus prayed?

What if Jesus hadn't bore the weight of our sin on the cross? Where would we be? What redemption would there be in the loss of these little ones? In God's goodness and grace His answer was "no."And so while what happened with Isaac feels unjust (among other things)... it ultimately isn't. Jerry Sitser in A Grace Disguised (yes, I am still working on this book!) puts it this way:Our feelings do not determine what is real, though the feelings themselves are real. The feeling self is not the center of reality. God is the center of reality. To surrender to God, however contrary to our emotions, will lead to liberation from self and will open us to a world that is much bigger and much grander than we are.

Thank goodness. Thank goodness it is all bigger than me and bigger than this. If it wasn't, where would the redemption be? Where would the purpose be? Thank goodness that God's vision is so much bigger than mine... even when and even tough I may not understand it. Thank goodness that He is sovereign over all of it, even when it hurts and doesn't seem to make any sense.

So in those times of weakness, of hurt, and of suffering, I cling to what the Lord said to Paul... My grace is sufficient for you. My power is made perfect in weakness.

I miss Isaac terribly; but there is so much beauty in the way that the Lord's grace has carried us each step of the way.

It is the prayer of my heart that if you are hurting and you are suffering that you'd find rest in knowing that His grace is sufficient.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Little Update-- Please forgive my oops!! I combined the titles of two books I have read. I guess that's what happens when you read so many. So sorry. The now correct title is below.*************************************************************************************It is taking me a while to get through Jerry Sitser's book A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows Through Loss. It's a book I have picked up and put down many times... not because I don't like it or find it boring, but because I find Sitser's words so deep and so true that I need time to just savor what he has said. I have mentioned his story briefly here before, but in case you missed that post or may have forgotten, Jerry Sitser lost his mother, his wife, and his youngest daughter all in the same fatal car crash.

Yesterday I picked his book back up and started chapter 6: The Amputation of the Familiar Self. I don't know that my "self" as a mother was familiar to me; after all, Isaac was my first born son. Sitser refers to a catastrophic loss being like an amputation throughout his book, and in this particular chapter, calls to mind that it's like an amputation of your self... your very identity. That is something I can definitely identify with.

He talks about how the very people who defined him as a son, a husband, and as a father, were no longer here. He mentions how loss leads to a confusion of identity. Boy, is that something I can relate with. How in the world do you define yourself as a mother, or a father, when your child isn't here? Mother's Day and the upcoming Father's Day are times where Spencer and I have found ourselves asking those very questions.

Sitser goes on to say, "I am not quite sure what to do with me." I love the honesty in that... and I can certainly relate. For months, I had no idea what to do with my "mom" energy. I don't have any other children to nurture that part of my identity, and Isaac isn't here. I know I am particularly grateful for this blog, for Isaac's golf tournament, and for the connections I have made with other grieving moms that allow me to talk about Isaac and feel affirmed as his mother.

It's a hard thing, feeling like part of you has been "amputated." In many ways, I will never be able to care for Isaac in the ways I would like. I'll never get to rock him to sleep, but a Band-Aid on his "boo-boos," take him to sports practice, or anything like that. Yet this morning, God brought to mind the fact that in other ways, I have had the gift of having the most pure and the most loving relationship a mother could ever have with her son. All there has ever been is love.

So while I'm feeling as though I am adjusting to this "new normal," there's still that part of my "self" that feels like it has been cut off. I don't know that there's any remedy for that, but to take it before the Lord for all that it is, and ask Him to affirm my motherhood and Spencer's fatherhood. And He has been gracious in that.

If you are someone who has experienced a loss, I can't recommend this book highly enough. It is gripping. It will touch your soul. And most of all, it will lead you to the One who can comfort you in the midst of your heartache.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Just typing the title of this post was so surreal. I can't believe it has been eight months since I last saw, held, kissed, and snuggled my son. The time seems to have both flown, and taken an eternity. It's a strange paradox for sure.

I am not too sure what to say today. There's so much I want to share, but have already said it. What does seem to be different about this time between the 6 month mark and this coming October is that the month markers don't feel so big anymore with Isaac's one year birthday (I suppose that's still what you call it?) looming in the distance. Not necessarily looming in a bad way, but it does feel like this weight that is sort of out there, that you know you'll reach in the coming months. In talking with other moms who have lost their children, I know that anticipating the one year mark is hard, and the arrival of it is even tougher.

But today, sitting here at 8 months, I find myself in a different place. As I shared with my counselor this past week, I don't feel so much like I am on the crazy roller coaster of emotions anymore. I don't feel as often like I am just at the mercy of whatever is thrown at me and am left to somehow respond. The bottom doesn't fall out as frequently, and the twists and turns are no longer unexpected... at least, not as often. And truly, the fact that I feel like I am becoming more acclimated, to this "new normal" is truly a work of God in my heart. Of course, conversations with others, the books I have read, going to counseling, writing on this blog have all been helpful; but I know that it's the Lord who has taken all of those things along with my prayers and the prayers of many others, to bring me to a place where I am now a little more adjusted.

Not over it, not "all better"... but more adjusted.

You see, I now can answer with confidence when I am asked if I have any kids rather than stumble over my words. I can look in the faces of my friends' babies and smile (although sometimes through tears), knowing that they have been given a gift... just like I was. It's just that they have gotten to keep theirs a lot longer. I don't have to walk around the perimeter of Target to get to where I need to go so that I can avoid the baby section. (Not that I walk through it yet, but maybe soon). And while I still sing songs at church like "Mighty to Save" or "Better is One Day" with tears welling up in my eyes, I am now at least singing them again.

I miss Isaac terribly. I still do, and I am not sure that will change. How could it when you feel like a part of you is missing?

When I was in college, I spent two summers working as the head baker (best job ever!) at a Young Life camp in Minnesota. It was GORGEOUS there, and I am so grateful for those summers. One summer there was a girl named Katie who worked with me who was a fabulous musician. During the time when many of the interns had off, she'd bring out her guitar and we'd sit around and sing... worship songs, U2, anything. One of my favorites was "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" which goes like this...

Jesus,

Lover of my soul

Jesus,

I will never let you go

You've taken me

From the miry clay

Set my feet upon the rock

And now I know

I love you

I need you

Though my world may fall

I'll never let You go

My Savior

My closest friend

I will worship You

Until the very end

My world has fallen... apart, that is. But God has graciously set my feet upon the rock: the truth of who He is. When life unravels, people grasp for what they know is certain and unchanging. It's Him. And He has been faithful.

So at this 8 month point what does it all look like? It still hurts like crazy. I still miss Isaac more than I could truly ever express. I think about what he would be doing right now and I am so hurt that I will never get to see and experience those things. But it all feels a little more steady. Of course there are some twists and turns that come up unexpectedly sometimes, but those times are starting to feel more expected... and more normal.

We appreciate you continuing to read and continuing to pray for us. Specifically, we'd love it if you would continue to pray for:

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Just a short post today to share a thought I received in an e-mail this morning. I subscribe to the daily e-mails through Grief Share, mostly because back in October, I had a hard time even having the energy to open my Bible. I knew I needed to, but I was tired... and truthfully, I was somewhat afraid. I was afraid of that what I would read would be of little comfort, or that God would feel strangely absent in my time with Him. And while a few times may have been like that, most often, God was very present and His word was like a balm for my aching heart.

So, I started receiving these daily e-mails through Grief Share to keep me connected, so that even on days I didn't have the strength to seek out His word, His word would still arrive in my inbox.

Today I received e-mail 208... two-hundred eight. Has it really been that long?

This morning's e-mail was entitled, "If God is good, why...?"

If you've ever suffered a significant loss, you've most likely asked that question. God is good; His goodness doesn't change just because our circumstances feel anything but good. Often, though, it can be hard to reconcile the goodness of God with what He has allowed. This is something I have been wrestling with and really trying to work out and understand. So as I was reading this morning, I stumbled on a sentence that was a true moment of clarity for me:

While God does not always give answers to your questions, He always gives Himself.I sat there and asked myself, "Stacy, is He enough? Is God, graciously giving of Himself, enough for you? Even if the questions are never answered... is His faithful and steadfast presence in your life enough?"

And it is... it has to be.

So while they "why" questions still linger, I know I can continue to hold fast to the fact that God always gives Himself... that through the heartache, the questions, and the roller coaster of emotions... He is steadfast.

Monday, June 1, 2009

There have been many people and ministries who have been such a support to Spencer and I throughout the last year... people giving of their time, talent, and treasure to pray for us, craft things for us in Isaac's memory, support the playground that is being built in honor of Isaac... the list goes on. Various foundations and ministries have provided us photographs and keepsakes to help us remember our sweet son. One such organization is Sufficient Grace Ministries.

After Isaac was born and passed away, Kelly, the founder of Sufficient Grace and just a lovely, godly person, sent Spencer and I a "Dreams of You" memory kit. It included several things, but the one I treasure the most is a memory book that is made specifically for parents who have lost a child. Using a regular memory book is so discouraging... because as a bereaved parent, you only get a few pages in, and see so many milestones that will never be met... pages that will never be filled. The book that Kelly sent us was designed specifically for parents who have lost a child; and I was able to fill every page.

These next few months, Sufficient Grace Ministries will be holding several events to raise funds so that they can continue to support bereaved parents and share God's grace with them. Below I have copied and pasted a portion of an e-mail from Kelly detailing several of these events.

June Thirty One Fundraiser - During the month of June, Tammy will be donating 25% of her earnings from her business which sells beautiful and stylish purses, totes, and other personalized products. This is a wonderful Christian organization with quality products. To view the catalog, click here: http://www.mythirtyone.com/Simplify. If you wish to place an order during the month of June, please make sure you list "Sufficient Grace Ministries" under the party information, and 25% of the profits will be donated to Sufficient Grace. For more information about how you can order from Tammy and support Sufficient Grace, please visit our blog: http://sufficientgrace-kelly.blogspot.com . Information coming soon (next week!). You can also email us at: sufficientgraceministries@gmail.com

Ice Cream Social - (Still in the works...not etched in stone!) We would like to have an ice cream social/light luncheon in the month of June. Details coming soon. Check the blog: http://sufficientgrace-kelly.blogspot.com . There will be a free will donation to benefit Sufficient Grace Ministries.

JulySufficient Grace Ministries Second Annual Golf Outing - July 11, 2009 @ 1:30p.m.1. Please pray for all details and preparations for this outing. For good weather...and willing hearts to give and participate. Please pray that all who attend would be blessed and that God would be glorified.2. To register a four person team for the event, please contact Kelly @ sufficientgraceministries@gmail.com . Details will be coming soon on our blog, as well: http://sufficientgrace-kelly.blogspot.com . Teams cost is $200 ($50 per person).3. If you do not golf, or are not able to attend the event, there are still many ways you can help. - Sponsor a Hole for $100 or share a hole sponsor for $50. - Sponsor the Dinner for $250 - A Cart Sponsor or Beverage (non-alcoholic) $150 - A Donation in any amount can be given by clicking on the donate button on this website or mailing a donation. - Prizes and auction items are welcome as well.

Isaac's Slideshow

Information About Isaac's Golf Tournament

About Me

I am a 38-year-old wife, teacher-turned-stay-at-home-mom, daugher, sister, friend, and mommy to two babies in heaven; to our sweet little Isaac with whom we spent the most precious 16 minutes before he went to be with Jesus; to his baby sister, Eliana, who was born March 4,2010 and brings so much joy and spunk to our lives; to Isaac and Ellie's little brother Jacob who was born on December 28, 2011; and to our sweet little Ryleigh Grace...doing my best to be a beacon of light to the world as I learn to be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer.
You are welcome to contact me at stacy.delisle@gmail.com.

Letters to Isaac

My Site Button

Welcome

Isaac's Playground

In memory of Isaac, we will be having a playground built at our church, Mountain View Community Church. We recently broke ground on our new facility, and the hope is that both the facility and the playground will be completed this fall. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made and sent to Mountain View Community Church for Isaac's playground. Please be sure to write "Isaac's Playground" in the memo line. Checks may be mailed to: